Motor High
by cooliochick5
Summary: What happens if the events of Motorcity were told as high school events? Kane is the principal, The Duke is the choir director, and Kaia is the school nurse? What about the Burners? Read and find out!
1. Chapter 1

"Way to go, Mikey!" Chuck, only a few days a junior, flings his hands above his head, twitching nervously in his chair as his best friend since kindergarten laughs loudly beside him.

"Relax, Chuckles, we aren't gonna get in that much trouble." The brunette kicks his legs out in front of him and crosses them at the ankle. The blonde beside him is not at all impressed, the bangs masking his face doing nothing to cover the glare Mike could feel burning into him. This only aids in his laughter, adding to Chuck's anger.

"Mikey, that's exactly what you said LAST TIME!" The blonde's stress gets the better of him, a sort of venom making its way into his words. On any other day, Chuck would immediately shame himself for raising his voice like that, but today, he was pissed.

"And did we get in trouble last time?" Mike quirks an eyebrow, though his bangs covered most of it. Chuck looks like he could exploded from frustration at this point, having a full power point as to why this time was not like the last time already prepared in his head, complete with colorful language that he otherwise never used.

"MIKEY, WE BLEW UP A FUCKING TOILET! THIS IS THE THIRD TIME WE"VE BEEN CALLED DOWN HERE! WE'RE GONNA GET FUCKING SUSPENDED!" He throws his arms into the air to complete his dramatic performance, but to no avail. Mike still has that cocky grin on his face.

"Relax, Chuck, I got this."

There is a break in the conversation as Chuck stares at his best friend. The look of agony never leaves his face as he asks, by far, the dumbest question he will ever ask in his life.

"Tell me, Mike..." He says all in one sigh, "What exactly is_ it _that you got?" He rubs a hand down his face, preparing for the equally dumb answer to follow.

"Just trust me, Kane won't even know we're here." Mike offers his friend a grin, but Chuck is too pissed off to notice it.

"I swear, Mikey, if I get another detention, I'm gonn-"

"PRINCIPAL KANE, THERE'S A FIGHT GOING ON IN THE AUDITORIUM!" A third voice cuts off the blonde and the sudden shriek of 'WHAT!?' from the principal and the heavy thud of foot steps from both him and the vice principal, Tooley, is heard from just outside the door as the two head down to the scene.

Mike's smile only grows as the door knob is turned and a familiar face walks in.

"Thanks, Dutch, knew I could count on you." Mike stands, holding his hand up for a high-five.

"Any time, man." Dutch returns the high five before turning his attention to Chuck again, who is staring off at the wall in front of him.

"Uh...is he alright?" The male waves a hand in front of the blonde's face.

"Of course he is." Mike slaps Chuck on the shoulder, which would usually break his trance, but again, this time was not like the last time at all.

"Uh...should we...help him?" Dutch asks, already advancing toward the blonde.

"Yeah, we should probably get him to lunch." Mike slings one of Chuck's arms over his shoulders while Dutch gets the other arm. If that wasn't going to make them run to lunch, then it would be Kane, returning to his office with two different students, forgetting completely about the other two students he should have been flinging detentions at.

* * *

"Alright, almost there." Mike stops to shift Chuck's arm higher on his shoulder. The blonde had at one point slumped over, making him heavier than he usually was.

"Let's just get the table an- OH HELL NAW!" Dutch throws Chuck on to Mike, taking off toward the cafeteria. Had Chuck been completely conscious, Mike would have already been there.

Across the lunch room sat the table. No. Not the table. _THE_ table! Thy holy table! THE TABLE!

It was by the back entrance, allowing for easy escapes if Kane were to realize he had a few extra detentions left unserved. It was close enough to the lunch line that whom ever claimed it was usually first in line and yet far enough from the hall monitors and teachers that plans of skipping and the next outrageous scheme for shop class could be discussed without interference.

And that very table was about to be taken by the Amazons! The bitchiest dance team in the entire damn worldl!

"DUTCH! RUN!" Mike calls, pulling Chuck's arms over his shoulders, breaking into a sprint.

"WE'RE NOT GONNA MAKE IT!" Dutch yells back, casting his backpack to the floor in an attempt to make himself faster.

Chuck's weight became too much for Mike as he leaned forward too far to run faster and ended up sending the two skidding across the floor. Mike hardly had time to shove his blonde haired friend off of him as he watched, not the Amazons, but Texas, slam his lunch tray down, sending an assortment of chocolate milk, muscle mulch, and whatever other food the black haired male managed to con the lunch ladies out of.

"Whats with all the yelling, losers?" Texas grabs a cheeseburger from his tray, shoving it into his mouth in one bite.

"Alright, Texas!" Mike cheers from the floor, picking himself and Chuck up.

"Texas wouldn't let those bitches get the table." The football player states proudly, taking a gulp of victory chocolate milk.

"Hey, whats with all the cheering?" Julie arrives to the table, tray of salad and ice tea in hand.

"Amazons." Mike replies coolly, looking up in time to see Dutch return with his own food. Snatching up an apple, Mike takes a bite, settling in a chair, "So, what's our next plan for Ka-"

"Mike!" Jacob rushes to his grandson, paper bag in one hand, trash can in the other. On a regular day, Mike would have hidden from the old janitor, but today, he was still enjoying the group's victory.

"Sup, Jacob? Mike looked up, knowing exactly what he was about to be lectured on.

"You left your lunch on the counter...again." He attempts to hand the bag off to the teenager, who simply holds up a hand to stop him.

"No thanks, granddad. I already bought lunch."

"But I made retch root caps!" Jacob flings his hands in the air.

"I'LL EAT IT!" Texas looks up from his pudding cup, but the old man turns to the blonde,

"Chuck?" Jacob shakes the bag before the blonde's face but receives no reaction, "Uh...is he okay?"

"Dude...he didn't even flinch." Dutch points out, lifting his spoon to whack the boy on the nose, "Nothin'."

"Well," Mike rises to his feet, "Should probably get him to Nurse Kaia."

"Man, I don't want to carry him." Dutch returns to his food.

"Yeah. Texas has a game tonight. Texas doesn't want to pull anything."

"If only we had something with wheels..." Mike rests a hand on his chin before a slow smile crept onto his face.

and that was how Chuck would up in a trash can, headed to the nurses office.

**_Disclaimers: I own nothing!_**


	2. Chapter 2

Lunch was already half over by the time Mike had pulled up just outside the nurse's office. Armed with a cocky attitude and a fallen friend for sympathy, Mike slapped a smile on his face and headed inside.

The office itself was pretty average, containing a few cots, band aids, and whatever else a school nurse might need. The only major difference between this office and any other office was the woman behind the desk.

Kaia was a thin, tall woman with the most ridiculous green hair that any of the students had every seen in their lives. She wore a mullet tied in a braid and had little marks around the corners of her mouth. The woman herself was rather obsessed with using herbal remedies to cure illnesses she came across, but the school board never allowed her to fully do so in school, making her rather bitter toward any staff that may walk on.

Lucky for Mike, he never planned to work here.

The soft squeak of the trash can wheels accompanied by the scuff of shoes caused Kaia to look up from the computer she had been fiercely typing at, "Chilton."

"Kaia."

"Chilton." Kaia regarded again in a serious tone she was well known around the school for, "What is it this time?"

"Chuck." Mike gestured to the male in the trash can beside him. Being completely unfazed by Mike and his friends antics at this point, Kaia simply rolled her eyes, pushing off of her desk to stand. She tromped bare foot over to the teenager, easily hoisting him up and depositing him onto a cot beside her.

"Did he eat lunch?" The nurse looked the boy over for any sore of common symptoms for an injury or illness he usually sustained. He attention on Chuck was cut short by the scrape of a glass lid being lifted from a jar. Hardly looking up, the nurse slapped at Mike's hand.

"Suckers are for actually sick people, Chilton." Kaia reminded him sternly, turning her attention back to Chuck, "What do you keep doing to this child?"

Ignoring the question, Mike unwrapped the candy, "I am sick, Ms. Kaia, sick in the head, that is."

"You didn't answer my first question, did he eat lunch?"

"He's kind of unconscious, ma'am." Mike replied simply, putting the candy in his mouth.

The overall concept of candy was something Mike actually really enjoyed. Candy wasn't something Jacob kept in the house much since Chuck had moved in nearly two years ago. Though the boy often explained to Jacob that candy was okay to have, Jacob continued to cling on to his incorrect and outdated thoughts on type one diabetes-

"Oh...fuck...how'd I forget about that?" Mike lets the sucker he had fall from his mouth as he quickly realizes what's wrong with his friend...and mentally scold himself for dropping that sucker!

A shot on insulin and a pack of smarties later and Chuck is back to himself...well, for a few minutes anyway.

"Whew, how long was I out?" Chuck asks, sitting up on the cot. He combs his fingers through his hair, brushing his bangs out of his face longer enough to catch a glance at the clock.

"About ten minutes." Mike answers, leaning against Kaia's desk.

"Ten minutes!? Mikey, we're gonna be late!" Chuck jumps from the cot, grabbing his backpack from the trash can, "Thanks, Kaia!" He calls behind him, running out the door.

"You know...he really should be resting." Kaia has already returned to her computer, hardly paying attention. Mike pushed himself off her desk,

"I got it." He says, dragging the trash can with one hand.

(line)

"Gonna be late, gonna be late!" Chuck mutters frantically in between pants of breath as he basically trips over himself down the hallway. The only thing to stop him at this point was the sound of screeching wheels behind him. He would have kept running had the source of the squeaks not collided with his lower back, sending him backwards into the trashcan.

"Hang on, Chuck, we're gonna make it!" Mike calls to the confused blonde, bolting down the hall way.

"Mikey! Slow down!" Chuck screams, clutching to the rim of the can as Mike made a sharp turn.

"No can do! Hudson is gonna kill us if we're late!" Mike lets out a laugh, imagining the look on the old teacher's face as they arrive late for chemistry for the umpteenth time.

"He's gonna kill us if he catches us running in the halls too!" Chuck screams back before letting out a yelp. Principal Kane was rounding the corner they had just turned. Mike picked up on Chuck's 'our ass is grass' yelp, already formulating a plan in his head.

Mike began to pick up speed, thanking the years he spent on the track team allowing him to do so. Once he picked up enough speed and directed the can in the direction he need to go, the brunette leaped into the trash can, ducking his head before Kane had time to see him.

"Could have sworn I just saw Chilton..." Kane mumbled to himself, watching the trash can roll by, "Delinquent..." He muttered, spinning on his heels to return to his office. As Kane left the halls, a lone trash can rolled into to Dr. Hudson's fourth period chemistry class.

The old professor held a piece of chalk between shaky fingers, jotting a formula onto the chalk board before for him. The man didn't bother to look up from his writing as the trash can came to a stop somewhere behind him.

"Michael, Charles, take your seats." He muttered off-handedly, stopping to erase a misspelled word. Mike stood up in the can, attempting to climb out at the same time as Chuck. The can was first direct left, then right, before flipping over completely, sending the two to the floor. Chuck's yelp of surprise was drown out by the bell, indicating that the boys had just made it.

"See, told you we'd make it." Mike picks himself off the floor, shoving his back pack beneath his desk.

"Mr. Chilton, class has begun," Dr. Hudson reminds the teen, "Get out your notebooks and prepare to take notes."

"What, notes again?" Julie groans for the desk behind Chuck.

"Yeah, sir, when do we get to work with real chemicals?" Dutch asks, bending in his desk to retrieve his notebook from his backpack.

"All in good time, students, all in good time." Hudson clasps his hands before him, turning back to the chalk board, "Alright, class, so today we will-"

At this point, the old professor is tuned out by the gang, all casting glances at each other.

'This is so lame.' Julie writes on a note, folding it strategically, making it small enough to be passed around undetected.

'Will someone please tell him to shut the hell up?' Chuck scribbled down before passing the note off to Mike beside him.

'Oh, come one, guys, it isn't that bad' The note is then passed to Dutch in front of the brunette, who seriously begs to differ.

'Dude, he just rambled on about the importance of muffins! MUFFINS! This class is so boring I want to tear my own ears off!'

The note is then passed to Texas three seats to the left of Dutch. Like most of these note conversations, Texas ignores the dialog, usually using the paper to jot down some random sketch of him taking Hudson out with a bazooka before crumpling the paper into a ball and aiming it for Chuck's head.

Being far to used to this method of passing notes, Chuck slumps down in his seat, the ball narrowly missing his forehead and instead landing smoothly on Julie's desk.

'Texas, quit throwing it! We're gonna get caught!' Julie nudges Chuck, who calmly gets up to sharpen his pencil, dropping the note off on Texas' desk along the way.

'Texas needs to practice for the big game on Friday!' The black haired jock scribbles onto the paper, deciding to prove his point by standing up sharply to send the note back over. At the wrong moment, Chuck returns to his desk, intercepting the note as it sailed across the room. It bounces off of the side of his head, sailing in Mike's direction.

Skillfully, the boy plucks it from the air, 'Guys, Hudson just said something important, did anyone hear it?'

'What? It was actually important?' Chuck writes around Texas' note.

'He said something?' Dutch writes off to the side of that. tossing the note back to Julie. The girl prepares a response but has no time to write as the note is snatched from her.

"Julie, were you passing notes is my class?" Hudson has the note between two bony fingers, waving it in the air like a flag. Holding the sheet by its corner, Hudson quickly examined the writing, making connections between the different handwriting and its owner after a semester of grading papers, "Julie, Michael, Charles, Dutch, Texas, may you come up to the front of the room and share this note?"

The teens, though not necessarily frightened by the old professor, did not want to get up from the safety of their desks as at, but as always, Mike slowly rose to his feet, followed by Chuck. Seeing their two friends bravely standing, Dutch and Texas soon stood, standing to the right of Chuck. Julie, knowing far too well that if her father were to see her still handing around and even getting in trouble with Mike Chilton, she would be in more trouble than she ever had been in all her life, stayed seated.

"Miss Kane?" Hudson sauntered over to her desk, hands positioned on his hips, "Would you like to read from your desk?"

"Uh...er..." Julie sank backward into her desk before finding her courage. She leapt to her feet, standing beside Dutch.

"You may begin." Hudson handed the note off to Julie, listening carefully as each teenager read their respective part in the note. By the end of it, the class was in fits of laughter and agreement, though Hudson had returned behind his desk, his glasses perched on the end of his nose,

"You five..." he began slowly, retrieving a stack of notes from his desk. He scribbled a few hall passes, pushing his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose, "See yourselves to the guidance office..."


	3. Chapter 3

"Way to go, Tex." Julie growled, shoving her hands in the pockets of her vest.

"Texas didn't do nothing wrong." The male folds his arms over his broad chest, walking with an air of pride about him.

"Maybe if you'd quit throwing the damn things at my head." Chuck adds a side comment, earning himself a whack from Mike. The brunette only smiles, returning his hand to his pocket,

"Be nice, Chuckles, at least it ain't Kane's office."

"At least!? At least!? Mikey! We could get suspended for this!" Chuck throws his arms in the air before grabbing the front of his own shirt in an attempt to calm his nerves.

"Man, I do not want to talk with Rayon, man, that dude is annoying." Dutch runs a hand over his face. The greet of snapping gum and the annoying tap of manicured nails on a key board was enough to make Dutch rethink his last statement,

"Here to see Rayon?" The annoying squeak of the red head behind the desk filled the room like an alarm, making all five teens cringe with a distinct disgust that only came with hearing the shrill voice for the past three years of their lives.

"Hey, Babs, is he in?" Mike puts on a little grin for the girl, leaning idly on her desk. The woman doesn't fall for the charm, knowing all to well of Mike's persona,

The woman was known around the school as 'Babs', 'No. 2', and even 'Mrs. Duke'. She had bright red hair to match a deep lip shade as well as a thin scar that ran from the corner of her lip to somewhere behind her thickly framed glasses with lenses so dark they appeared to be sunglasses. She popped another piece of gum in her mouth, blowing a bubble bigger than her face.

It snapped with an obnoxious pop, disappearing back between cherry lips. Babs swung her arm out toward the door, gesturing for the teens to move toward the office.

Rayon sat behind his desk, legs propped up as he typed away on his computer, "Come in." he commented, hardly looking from the screen. Mentally counting the different foots steps he heard, the man easily picked up on which group he would be dealing with.

"Ah, the Burners." The man said quizzically, looking up to check his suspicion, "And what do I owe this honor?"

"Hudson." Mike explained, slipping their passes on to the desk. Rayon plucked up the passes, a small smirk spreading across his features,

"Chilton, why do you keep ending up in here?" He chuckled lightly, setting the pass back down.

"Dunno, man." Mike laughed, shoving his hands in his pockets again. Rayon kicked his legs back up, becoming a bit more casual with the teens. He addressed them more as old friends than actual students, considering the amount of time they usually spent in here.

"Look, ya'll are good kids, but I'm gonna have t-"

"Oh dear, oh dear, what is this?" The voice that cut through the air like some song by the Twisted Sisters sounded through the small office.

"Oh great...what do you want, Duke?" Rayon looked up at Mr. Duke, who kicked the already partly open door completely open, doing some weird routine that consisted mostly of spins to announce his entrance.

"What do I want? What do I want?" Mr. Duke leaned in more with each syllable, a sharp scowl on his face. When he was a mere inch from Rayon's face, he snapped backwards like he was set in a sling shot, his hair rounding about his face, "I came down to borrow these two." Duke claps his hands against Julie and Chuck's shoulders, laughing loudly as the blonde teen's legs give in against the sudden force, sending him toward the floor.

"Duke, what are you even doing down here?" Rayon's legs are now back under his desk, hands pressed firmly against the desk top to prevent him from jumping over it in a defensive rage.

"Just came down here for some sugar."

"Duke, you and Babs need to keep your personal lives at home!" Rayon stood sharply, knocking the man backs few steps.

"Oh Lordy have mercy on your soul, sir. Seriously, get your mind outta the gutter, Ray, I meant sugar for my coffee." The Duke smirks as the sentence leaves him, watching as the rage leaves the guidance counselor's face.

"Duke...get out of my office..." Rayon finally regains his composure, slowly returning to the chair behind his desk. Mr. Duke smirks cockily before returning his hands to Chuck and Julie.

"Let's be off," His playfully awkward voice returns, gearing the two from the office, stopping past Bab's office for a handful of sugar (literally). With two gone and no more witnesses, Mike, Dutch, and Texas are let go.

* * *

"Get back! In yo' seats. Get out your notebooks and pens and prepare to take some notes!" Duke jumps up on to his piano, text book in hand.

"Uh, sir, this is choir class..." Chuck reminds him offhandedly, reaching for the backpack beside his chair. The Duke, who was mid-turn ontop of the piano, stops and stares at the boy.

"Oh, so it is," With one swift motion, the Duke kicks the globe off the top of his piano, sending it sailing across the room. The text book between his gloved fingers meets the globe somewhere in the middle, both crashing somewhere near the door. Music notes are withdrawn from who knows where as the Duke leaps to his feet, running to the students.

"Alright, my poppets, write this down!" He snaps his head back, as if collecting his thoughts, before swinging back forward, scribbling whatever came to mind on the board, "Now you all have TALENNNNNNNNNT! YEAH!" The Duke exclaimed pridefully, slamming his music book shut and spinning dramatically to face his classroom.

"Uh...how would you spell that?" Chuck jams the tip of his pen to his notes, having just about enough with the Duke already. He didn't have time to be angry as the older man was suddenly in his face,

"How would your _soul _spell it?" Duke looks in to Chuck's eyes like he's about to tell him every wonder of the world, before releasing him, tip toeing back over to his piano/desk.

"Well, my soul says this is bullshit." Chuck mumbled, dusting off his tshirt.

"What was that!?" Duke looks up sharply, temper flaring.

"Uh...my soul would spell it with two 'n's."

"Really? My soul says three 'n's...but, every artist is unique I suppose." A smile returns to the teachers face as he moon-walks to some other group of students to harass.

"Sir, is any of this gonna be on the test?" Julie asked, holding a hand up. The Duke stops mid-walk snapping his neck toward the female. His neck doesn't stay in one place as it was then flung backward as the man laughs like his life depended on it.

"Test? There is no _test."_

"Why are we taking notes then?" Julie lets her hand fall, folding at her lap. The Duke would have been more than happy to answer if he hadn't been lost in his own fits of laughter. Reaching the end of his rope, Chuck finally shook his head,

"I've had enough of this." He muttered, sliding his notebook back into his back pack. Taking a deep breath, the teen prepares for a routine he had to get used to ever since he was a kid, however, this time, there was barely a reason for it. The blonde stands, taking half a step forward before allowing his legs to give way, sending him into a crouching position. Desperate gasps for air follows as the boy's knees hit the floor, hands finding long blonde locks. Picking up on the act, Julie jumps to her feet.

"Sir, he's having a panic attack! I'll take him, er, outside, for...uh, air!" Julie grabs Chuck by the arm, dragging him from the classroom without further discussion. Once in the safety of the hallway, Chuck gets back up, dusting himself off,

"Thanks, Jules, couldn't stand it in there."

"No way, man, I should be thanking you, that was brilliant." Julie smiles brightly, feeling just a little too devious,

"You, uh, you probably shouldn't do that during a real panic attack though."

"Yeah...I know..."

The two teens stood in awkward silence, now realizing that, with a perfect alibi, they had no where to go.

"Uh...Mike is in English class now...wanna go bug him?" Chuck uses his hand to brush some hair out of his eyes, smiling earnestly once he sees Julie's eyes light up.

"Dude...he's gonna be so pissed..."

"Let's do it!"


	4. Chapter 4

"And that is why, um, yeah. Edgar Allen Po was a chill dude, man." Junior stands before the classroom, crumpled up notebook paper in hand as he rattles off an improvised speech, which was supposed to be on William Shakespeare. The teacher has her head down on her desk, not able to bring herself to write down yet another F on the grade sheet before her. Mike runs his left hand over his face, gripping his pant leg with his other hand.

Admittedly, Mike had absolutely no problem with speaking in front of a class room full of students who probably didn't give a crap about what he had to say anyhow, but that wasn't why he was so anxious.

"Michael." The teacher mumbled lowly, waving a hand in the air to gesture Junior back to his desk. Mike, knowing all too well that his fate was sealed, squirmed from his desk, rubbing sweaty palms on the pockets of his jeans, attempting to keep them dry enough that the ink on his paper wouldn't smear.

Not that it helped him in any way.

His paper was only half complete and had a pretty impressive coffee spill on it.

"Fuck..." He muttered under his breath, letting his back hit the rim of the chalk holder, attempting to brace himself with it.

"Whenever you're ready." The teacher has since pulled herself off her desk, readying her pen to write down a passing grade.

"Right, well, uh, Pablo Picasso was born in Málaga, Spain on October 25, 1881..." Mike began his speech, keeping his paper at eye level. Though the beginning of the speech was fantastic, the teenager soon ran out of words to say, finally looking up from his paper. As expected, half the class was either asleep, almost asleep, or flat out not paying attention, Claire even went as far as reapplying her make up to keep herself entertained. Casting a glance over at his teacher, who looked like this speech just might save her life, Mike bit down on his lip, attempting to close the speech without further disruption.

"Picasso was a brilliant painter whose artwork w-" Mike's words get caught before they could even leave his mouth as he glances up at the clock before the door, accidentally seeing a sight that stuns him.

Just outside the classroom, Chuck and Julie stand, Chuck balancing his laptop on his knee, typing something in to a search box. Mike can only watch in slight horror as the laptop is set on top of a trash can, music suddenly filling the hallway.

As long as any of the Burners had been friends, no one could ever explain just how and why Julie and Chuck knew how to do the flamenco, regardless, whenever the two danced, anyone within a viewing distance would just have to stop and watch.

"And, uh...I'm sorry, there's two students dancing outside the classroom..." Mike finally trails off, shaking his head while his right hand finds the bridge of his nose. Pinching the bridge between his forefinger and thumb to fain irritation, Mike held back fits of laughter while his teacher leaped to her feet, attempting to shoo away the two teenagers.

Just down the hall, another teacher slams his door shut

(line)

"Seriously, if they're gonna be dancing like that, they can at least put on some better music." The art instructor rants as the door slams closed behind him. Dutch looks up from his sculpture of a muscle car, nearly crushing the hood in his distracted state.

"Sir, that's the third time this week, I dun this they're gonna stop anytime soon." He advices, knowing that without proper attendance, the teacher would never calm down.

"When I email principal Kane, they'll stop!" The teacher saunters back over to his desk, sitting himself down in a swivel chair, angrily turning to his laptop.

Dutch rolls his eyes, returning to his sculptor. He sighs in frustration as the initial inspiration has already left him, leaving him unsatisfied with his creation.

"Hey, Dutch!" Dutch's back throws himself inward as he is scared almost half to death by the sudden greeting, "Whatcha making?" Tennie pushed her safety goggles up on to her face. Having a woodshop teacher as a father really got you in to some weird habits. Dutch sucks in a breath, letting it out slowly.

"It was meant to be a muscle car but, I dunno, girl, I just ain't feeling it." He sets the lump of clay on the table, resting his forehead on his palms.

"Well," Tennie picks it up to examine it, "I think it looks great!" She honestly had no idea what it looked like, but she was never one to put anyone down, especially Dutch.

The feelings the two scared for one another had become evident to the rest of their extensive group of friends, though the two would continually deny such claims. Though the feelings had been discussed, they were never acted upon in fear of Tennie's father, Brackett finding out. Neither teens were really scared of Brackett, but neither of them wanted to displease him in any way. Their own friendship was shaky enough with him around, dating would be a whole nother story.

"Thanks, Ten, I needed that." Dutch looked up slowly, grin widening.

"U-uh, anytime." Tennie turned her head, busying herself with fixing one of her ponytail holders. Dutch couldn't help but find himself stare-no! No, no, no, no, no! He was not staring at Tennie! Staring implied he liked her, which he didn't! Right?

"Hey, kiddo." A growling, you'regonnadieifyoukeeplookingatmydaughter voice cut through Dutch's thoughts like a knife he would most likely be killed with if Brackett discovered he liked his daughter.

"Hey, dad! How's it going?" Tennie leaps from her seat, sending a can of paint over the edge off the table.

"I got it!" The currently distressed boy slips from his seat, knocking the can upward, only to have it tumble through the air and on to his lap.

"Ah! Dutch, I woulda got it!" Tennie skillfully plucks up the paint in an attempt to not get any on her own self and heads to the sink to get a rag.

"Uh, Ten, that ain't necc-" Really, Dutch did not want to be left alone with Brackett in fear of saying the wrong thing and lucky for him, he didn't have to.

"Texas! Put that power saw down!" The older man rushes from the room in attempt to save a plank of wood from Texas' wrath, leaving Dutch to slowly melt into his chair, soul leaving his body.


	5. Chapter 5

If it was one thing that Brackett hated about being a school teacher, it was having to deal with Texas. No, Texas wasn't a bad kid or anything, it was just the fact that he could hardly seem to keep himself out of trouble. He was always getting in to things, a majority of those things were usually hidden away from him in order to prevent the boy from getting in to them in the first place.

SUCH AS THE POWER SAW!

"How is Texas supposed to finish his nun chucks if he doesn't have a power saw?" Texas asked, pushing his safety goggles up onto his forehead. At least he remembered his safety goggles. _At least._

"Texas, I told you, we aren't using the power tools in this unit." Brackett runs a gloved hand over his face, pausing to smooth over his forehead in an attempt to ease a migraine.

"Well that's super lame and all, but hey, now that it's out, how bout I use the power saw and you give me an A on my nun chucks?" Texas smiled like he had just been dubbed president of the United States, revving the power saw in the process.

"How about we put the saw away and just use sand paper like the lesson says to?" Brackett now folds his arms, preparing his best scowl for the boy. Texas' smile never fades and neither does his determination to use the power tools. He would have continued to heckle to get his way had the bell not rung seconds later.

"Texas is gonna be late for football practice!" Texas sends the power saw flying, running from the room without cleaning up his wood shop project, leaving a rather agitated Brackett alone with his anger.

* * *

"Alright, let's get through one practice without someone getting hit by a football." Thermon, the tuba player for the school band, trots out onto the field, making sure to stay as far away as the football team as possible. Ruby checks her saxophone over again, being very prideful in the instrument.

"Thermon, we never don't get hit by footballs! And where the hell is Chuck!?" The sophomore adjust the strap around her neck, playing a few practice notes.

"Wait! I'm here!" Chuck calls across the field, doing his damndest to get his drum in its harness.

"Late again, Chuck." Ruby reminds him, folding her arms around her saxophone. Chuck rolls his eyes, though the action sends him gracefully over his drum, skidding across the dirt.

"Relax, Ruby, Oracle isn't even here yet."

Now, Oracle was not the guy's real name, but he was a senior and knew far more than any other members of the band combined. He was always giving them tips on how to play better, how to get away with not coming to rehearsal, and all it all, how to have fun while doing it. He was kind of like the second in command band direction and everyone sort of looked up to him for it.

Even if he did wear a unicorn sweater to school everyday. Not to mention he'd keep the band blocked off from the rest of the football field by wearing a traffic cone on his head, but each band member learned quickly not to judge him for it.

His temper was more scary than the fact that a senior was wearing a unicorn sweater.

Regardless, the band members always enjoyed their rehearsals together, often goofing off in between songs, acting as though they were about to play the football players in to battle.

"ONWARD TO VICTORY!" Chuck proclaimed over the blare of the musicians, causing an abrupt end to the tune and a fit of giggles from the individual members making up the group.

"FOR THE KINGDOM OF MOTOR HIGH!" Ruby piped up, holding her saxophone in the air as if it were a lance.

The laughter only grows in the group, adding to the anger of the Oracle.

"Chuck, Ruby, I demand silence!" He clenches his hands in to fists around his trombone, however, the joke isn't over yet.

"MEN, PREPARE YOUR INTRUMENTS!" Thermon belts out, followed by an eruption of cheers from the group.

"THERMON, SHUT THE-" Oracle it about to deliver the scolding of a lifetime when a misguided football soars through the air, knocking his traffic cone off in the process.

"YEAH! TEN POINTS TEXAS!" The football player is celebrating his victory, much to the annoyance of the band and little known to anyone, the cheerleaders.


	6. Chapter 6

"Can they stop screwing around? We have practice to start!" Claire throws her pompoms to the grass, running a hand down the sides of her skirt to smooth it. Julie mumbles back a response, ponytail holder in her teeth while she puts her hair back.

"What?" Claire looked back up once thoroughly satisfied with the smoothness of her skirt, though she suddenly found something wrong with her lipstick, opting to fix that instead of listening to her friend.

"Claire, you aren't even paying attention!" Julie finally snapped, picking her pompoms up off the side lines. Claire looks up from her mirror, raising an eyebrow at the sudden outburst. Julia casts a glare back at her before shaking her head, "Lets just get started before the Amazons show- Damn...too late." Julie folds her arms, watching the group of dancers strut onto the field, uniforms all in a precision that would put a ruler to shame.

"They are so...cool!" Claire squeaks, covering her lips with her hands in an attempt to muffle the comment.

"Claire, they're so overrate! Besides, we wouldn't stand a chance getting on the team." Julie shoved Claire's pompoms into her arms, getting increasingly frustrated as the distracted girl refused to take them.

"Jules...what if I tried out for the dance team?" Claire's eyes are practically lit up with excitement, watching the dancers practice their routines in the center of the field.

"What? Claire, do you even hear yourself? You hate dancing." The frustrated teen recalls just how difficult it was to even convince her friend to try out for the team in the first place. Claire is in no way paying attention and with the rest of the cheerleaders refusing to practice, feeling as though to dance team was taking their spot, Julie threw down her pompoms yet again, heading for the track that lined the field. Mike was already there, doing a few practice laps before the actual practice began.

"Funny seeing you hear, Jules," Mike slows his pace to look at the cheerleader. She really isn't in the mood to talk, opting to jog just a bit faster than her, "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just nothing." Julie groaned, changing her pace from a jog to a run.

"What would you're dad say if you started showing more interest in track than in cheerleading?" Mike stopped his jog, attempting the get Julie to stop with him. She was usually careful not to run on the track during practice, usually joining the boys afterwards to get a few laps in. Her father had nearly had a hernia when he heard she wanted to try out for the track team, urging her to do cheerleading instead.

In Kane's eyes, girls were meant to be cheerleaders while the boys were meant to do things like football or basketball. Julie would never confine to this rule, however, going behind her father's back to even join the track team, something she had always wanted to do and quite enjoyed.

"Mike, I really don't care at the moment." Julie finally slowed down, turning to look at the football player.

"Jules, come on, talk to me-"

"Hey, Mike!" Both teens turn their attention to the drummer, running across the field. A scene behind him of the Oracle being carried off the field with a pretty sizable bruise on his cheek catches both of their attention before turning it back to their friends for an explanation.

"Oracle got hit by a football, so we're just gonna go out for Antonio's. You guys in?" Chuck pants a bit as he finally comes to a stop, setting his drum on the ground beside him to catch his breath.

"Ya know..." Mike looks up just in time to see Texas running for the bleachers, attempting to spike the ball over Mr. Kane's car, "We should probably get the hell out of here anyway..."

* * *

Now safety tucked away from any misguided footballs or angry principals in Thermon's van, the group breathed a sigh of relief. Ruby leaned on Chuck, kicking her legs up onto the dashboard. After many an interesting band rehearsal, the two had become pretty close, usually covering for each other in the case of missing reeds or forgotten sheet music. The whole band watched each other's backs, but nothing like Chuck and Ruby. The girl was so much like a little sister to him, Chuck actually had tripped Thermon during practice when he skipped a date with the girl only once.

Ruby had greatly appreciated it and had 'protected' Chuck ever since. Thermon, however, rolls his eyes at the action, "Ruby, seriously, get your feet off the dash. My mom will kill me if she sees dirt on it again!"

Ruby tilts her head upward, casting the boy a look of both venom and disgust as her legs leave their spot, finding the floor below her. Cramped awkwardly between band instruments, Mike and Julie watch in envy as Chuck and his band friends sit in the front seat, enjoying the luxury of being in front of the air conditioner.

"So, um...yeah, how do you guys travel to competitions like this?" Mike pushed a trombone away from his ribs, only to have Chuck's drum flip onto his lap. The band members don't seem to be paying any attention to their passengers, laughing loudly about their practice only ten minutes ago.

"Hey, do we need to pick up Sam and Phillip?" Thermon drums out of boredom on the steering will, eyes never leaving the road as he waits for Chuck's response.

"Um...yeah. We probably should. I don't need Sam telling my mom I left him at school again." Chuck responds, stretching his arms above his head. His younger brother and his friend Phillip attended school at the middle school, already in their eighth grade year. They're love for band left the two hanging out in the school court yard, playing crap versions of stupid songs no one wanted to hear.

That was middle school band for ya.

"No, leave 'em. Philip always tries to touch my hair." Ruby complains, folding her arms over her chest to emphasize her distain.

"Do we even have room back here?" Julie is currently trying to keep a saxophone from crushing her, feeling an onslaught of frustration from the lack of acknowledgement.

"Okay, well, I don't feel like getting in tr-," Chuck's sentence is cut off by a sudden blaring of Breaking Benjamin's 'Diary of Jane' sounds through out the car, "Just a sec." Chuck holds up his index finger to hold his place in the conversation, using his left hand to answer his phone, "Hello? Oh! Yeah, did you let mom know? Yeah? Um. Okay, we'll just meet you there then. Alright. See ya, kiddo. Bye." Chuck disconnects the call, giving Thermon a knowing look.

The red head nods, advancing past the middle school.

* * *

"Thank God, that's over." Julie stretches her arms above her head while Mike rubs a sore spot on his back, "Driving around with that many instruments should be illegal."

"Why didn't you just throw them behind the seat?" Chuck asked, rounding the back of the car to meet the two. Mike looks like he had just been bested at his own game of cunning problem solving, but doesn't let the comment bug him.

"Let's just get in and get some food." Julie shakes her head, attempting to step in to the store, but Ruby rushes to the door, closing it shut.

"Don't go in there!" She whispers/yells. Julie gives the girl a confused look, glancing at the glass door for any indication as to what may be bothering her. A flash of red hands, yellow shirt over black and white stripes, and overalls answers Julie's question.

The Momma's Boys were in there already.


	7. Chapter 7

"They just have to ruin everything!" Ruby stomps her foot against the pavement, cringing inwardly as she pulled her foot back to reveal a wad of gum stuck to her shoe. Julie rolls her eyes, going for the door again,

"I don't care if they're here, I still want to get food." Julie is about to pull open the door when Ruby grabs her arm,

"No way am I eating anywhere near them!" Ruby balls her hands in to fists, putting on a scowl that would make any one, besides Julie apparently, run and hide in the nearest facility. She easily steps in way of the door, crossing her arms as she does so to enforce her dominance.

"I don't care what you do." Julie threw her arms up in defense, attempting yet again to side step the younger teen, but to no avail.

"Ruby, come on, it'll be fine." Chuck, who suddenly gained some sort of short-lived confidence, steps forward, though he is quickly shunned back by the brunette's fury, opting to hide behind Mike than continue any further, " Mike, control your sister." He whispers urgently, clinging to the back of the boy's jersey.

Mike had absolutely no control over his half sister, usually ignoring her rather than actually acknowledge her tantrums, let alone her existence or even her sister status. Ever since Mike had moved in with their grandfather after middle school, he really didn't talk to his sister. At this point, he really didn't care what she wanted to do either. He was just about ready to pick her up and move her out of the way himself.

"Ruby." He tried nonchalantly, reaching an arm behind him to untangle his friend's fingers from his shirt. Ruby looked up at him with the time of persistence and hate that would probably fuel some great leader if they weren't so damn stubborn all the time. Mike rolled his eyes at this, just as unfazed by this act as Julie had been. He switched up his game a bit, deciding to get to the bottom of the hate rather than let it go.

"Is it because Junior is in there?" He asked, a small smirk spreading across his face. Ruby looked like a deer in headlights as she fumbled over a negative response. The rest of the group stared in pure horror as the two siblings went back and forth on the matter, waiting for the younger of the two to snap.

"I don't like him!" Ruby crossed her arms over her chest, emphasizing her anger with yet another stomp of the foot. Mike mimics his sister's actions, hjis smirk only growing at her frustration.

"That's not what your diary says." Mike lifted his hand in order to check a note he had written on it earlier that day. Ruby's anger only continues to flare at this new information.

"You read my diary!?" She looks ready to attack but is quickly caught around the waists by Thermon and Chuck. Despite their best effort, the teens wind up being dragged along in Ruby's attack.

In light of the whole situation, Julie finally reached the door, flinging it open. Much to her surprise, all of the Momma's Boys are staring at the fight outside.

"Uh..." Junior rubs the back of his neck before turning to Julie, "What's goin' on with little lady outside?"

"Don't even ask." Julie bites angrily, marching to reserve the nearest booth for her and the boys.

* * *

After a short spat that ended with Chuck holding a fist full of napkins to his bleeding nose, the group is finally seated, pepperoni pizza already ordered, sodas half drank, and straw wrapped wishbones already cover the table. Julie picks at her nails while Mike helps Chuck with his nose bleed. Thermon, who by the decision of Julie, sits beside Ruby, who is still steaming from the whole incident.

"Alright...I know this isn't the best time to bring this up, but I left my wallet in my car." Mike shoves his hands in his pocket, praying hard for the protection of his soul as everyone in the table cast glares in his direction.

"Don' worr'eh." Chuck attempts to look up, nasal from the blood, "I go' i'."

"Wow, she really did a number on your nose." Julie makes her first comment about the fight since they had sat down, watching as the tissues turn from white to red. With lack of better judgment, she would have almost suggested taking the teen to the E.R. Chuck only shakes his head, the tips of his shaggy hair soaked crimson.

"I thin' she bro'e it." He says with a sort of positivity one only uses when still in shock. The girl continues to stare at her friend before the pizza finally comes around.

"Okay, a pepperoni and a towel for the blonde kid." Antonio jeers, setting the pizza on the table. Had it not been for the still-cooling nerves from the fight earlier, the teens would have been fighting over the pizza instead, though, nobody really knew if they were still hungry after that. They were all still pretty irritated with one another.

"Thanks man." Mike finally spoke up, casting his trademark half smile to the older man.

As if he had absolutely no idea of the turmoil among the group, Antonio smiled broadly, "Ay, it's on me, boy-o!" He clapped his palm to Mike's shoulder before spinning on his heels to return to the kitchen. Mike watched the man leave before turning back to his friends. Chuck still bled, Thermon still sat tense beside Ruby, who hadn't changed her position since the fight, and Julie looked like she was about to kill Mike with her bare hands for even suggesting that they tag along,

"So...if you guys aren't gonna eat, I'm just gonna take this home." Mike quirked innocently, but the onslaught of glares caused his smirk to fly right off his face.

Looks like he'd be eating by himself tonight.


	8. Chapter 8

"Jacob?" Mike called out to his grandfather as he held to door ajar with the toe of his boot. Much to his surprise, he is answered by a female rather than the older man.

"He ain't home yet. He was towing my car back to the house." Mike looks quickly into the kitchen to see his older sister, Capri, seated at the table.

"What are you going here?" Mike, using his hip to open the door completely, stepped into the house, dropping his backpack on the floor beside him, carrying the pizza box in one hand as he made his way to the kitchen. Capri stands now, not much of a hugger, waiting for her brother to initiate the gesture. Likewise, Mike really didn't give out many hugs, but he did throw an arm around his sister's shoulder. He didn't see her often as she was in college and usually spent most of her time dorm hopping to see who had a good enough party to be at that night. However, she usually checked in at least once a month or when she needed something, this time, her car.

"Was just in town. Decided to stop by." Capri shrugged his arm off of her, opting to pick at her nails rather than make any actually eye contact. Mike set the pizza box down on the already cluttered table and folded his arms other his chest,

"Did you get kicked out?" He tried to refrain from smirking, but nothing would make his day more if it were true. Capri shakes her head, nipping at a hangnail on her left hand. Mike ponders over the possibilities a little longer before coming to a conclusion, "Did you drop out?"

"Jeez, can't a girl just visit her favorite brother?" Capri held her hands up in defense, causing Mike to laugh.

"First, I'm your only brother, second, you didn't even come around for my track meet." He shot back, adding a smirk to keep the conversation light-hearted. Capri reached for the box beside Mike, knocking over a few oil cans in the process,

"This place is a mess," She uttered under her breath, grabbing a piece of pizza before looking back up at Mike, who waited for a response, "I was busy."

"And you aren't now?" Mike leaned against the back of one of the old wooden chairs that lined the island kitchen table. Capri took a seat in one across from him, rolling her eyes.

"No, but granddad told me you got in trouble yet again." She kicked her legs up onto the table, knocking over yet another oil can. Mike winced as the metal container hit the ground before glaring at his sister.

"Kane was just overreacting. He wouldn't actually suspend us." Mike threw his shoulders back in a relaxed manner, nonchalant about the whole thing.

"Listen, baby brother, you're setting a bad example for Ruby." Capri always liked to bring up their little sister. It usually got Mike to sober up a bit.

"I'm setting a bad example? She threw a fit because Junior was at Antonio's." Mike picked at a burn mark on the table, waiting for Capri's response. She in turn laughed loudly, dropping her pizza onto her lap and she tried to repress her joy over the subject.

"Oh yeah? And who got hurt this time?" Capri asked in between her laughter. Mike almost joined in had it not been for his phone ringing. The slightly pitchy version of 'Shout' by Tears for Fears immediately alerted Mike as to who was calling him.

"Hey, shut up a minute." Mike patted all four of his pockets before realizing his phone had been in his coat pocket. He checked the caller I.D to make sure before answering, "Hey, Chuckles."

"Mike..." Now, Mike had known Chuck for quite awhile. He knew the different tones of voice he used depending on what the conversation would pertain to. This tone sounded like a mix of when Chuck was having a panic attack and low blood sugar all at the same time.

"Chuck, are you doin' okay?" Mike stood slowly from his chair, prepared to grab his car keys if need be. Capri had joined him by he side, attempting to listen in.

"Mike...can you drive me to the E.R...I think Ruby broke my nose..."

"Come on." Capri grabbed Mike's keys from him, sauntering to the door, "I'm driving."

* * *

"Chuck? Where're you at, man?" Mike, already having a spare key to the apartment, let him and his sister in. The place was small enough to house Chuck, his brother, and their mom who worked more often than she spent time at home. The place was pretty well kept as everyone pretty much stuck to their bedrooms, though Chuck wasn't in his electronic-crammed room today. Neither was Sam.

"Chuck?" Mike called again before a pair of smaller arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

"Fix him!" Sam demanded immediately, causing Capri to jump and Mike to otherwise stay where he was.

"Sam, where's your brother?" Mike easily pried the kid off of him, looking around the apartment again. The light in the bathroom was on along with the sink. In addition to this, Sam extended his arm, pointing in the direction of the bathroom. Using his cunning sleuth skills, Mike headed in that direction. In all honesty, Mike had been laughing a bit to himself; he was usually the one driving Chuck around everywhere, the E.R. being one of those places they wound up in at least twice every year.

Though the situation was usually more severe than a broken nose. It was usually something more like a broken limb or burns or something like that. Something that Mike would actually worry about. Not that he didn't worry about his shy friend or anything, it was just those situations that made him worry more.

"Chuck?" Mike stepped in to the bathroom, though he nearly jumped back the moment he saw the blonde, "Uh...pretty sure that towel was grey when your mom first bought it..." Mike rubbed the back of his neck in an attempt to calm his nerves. Maybe he shouldn't have been brushing the situation off so soon like he had earlier.

There was Chuck, curled up on the bathroom floor in a small puddle of his own blood, attempting to stop the bleeding with a completely stained red towel, streaks of red colored his blonde hair. Mike's eyes widened slightly, but it was Capri who spoke up first.

"Damn, remind me to congratulate Ruby later." She leaned idly on the doorframe while Mike brought one of Chuck's arms over his shoulder.

"Alright." Mike reached for a new towel before turning back to his sister and Sam, "Time for a little field trip."

* * *

Ah, the E.R. A space Mike new like the halls of the school. At this point, he could address almost every nurse, doctor, and crack in the ceiling. He knew which janitors would get pissed if you got blood on the floor and he knew which nurses would hand out cookies if you sat with your head down.

Unfortunately, he knew one nurse more than he'd like to admit.

"Michael Chilton! What did I tell you about coming back here!" Mrs. Gordy shrieked from behind her desk, leaping to her feet as soon as she saw the boys, "What happened this time?" She was quick to throw on a pair of gloves and assess the damage.

"Would you believe me if I said Ru-"

"Yes. I would actually. That girl needs to get out of fantasy land before she kills someone." Mrs. Gordy commented off-handedly, more focused on her work than starting small-talk with the teenager.

"Yeah, well, we tried to stop her..." Mike put his hands back in his pockets, attempting to make himself as small as possible. He knew all too well for years of experience that, when angry, Dutch's mom would strike. That was probably from years of handling two sons, but who knows.

"I swear, Chuck needs to be put in a bubble or something. This poor kid just keeps getting beat on, doesn't he?" Mrs. Gordy hooked her foot around her office chair, bringing it to the front of her desk to allow the blonde to sit.

Knowing full well that his friend would be in good hands, Mike stepped out for awhile. He'd start getting too protective after awhile and right now, after the day he had, he need some cookies.

* * *

"Take the boys home with ya tonight. Lord only knows when their mother'll be back and I don't want them alone like that." With the turn of shift and an otherwise unconscious Chuck, Mrs. Gordy helped carry him out to the car. Mike nodded and the command, agreeing almost entirely. He turned back to his sister, casting her a grin,

"Any chance you might be spending the night tonight?" He asked, getting in to the driver's seat before leaning over to strap Chuck in. Capri only shook her head, taking the back seat beside Sam, who nervously twirled his thumbs.

"Sorry, baby bro, I have to cut out tonight. Got finals coming up next week." Capri brushed a strand of her short hair out of the way, looking up at her brother. He only nodded solemnly, starting up the car. He said his goodbyes to Mrs. Gordy before pulling out of the parking space,

"You know..." He commented, looking at the two in the back seat, "We still have a whole box of pizza left."

A/N: For those of you who are missing Julie, No worries! We're gonna see some Mike and Julie stuff tomorrow as well as some Dutch and Tennie. Texas will pop up as well, so beware! Lol


	9. Chapter 9

Mornings were never Mike Chilton's favorite part of the day. He always had a few seconds of dread before unwinding himself from both his sheet and blanket, regretting ever morning the absent shirt he usually tossed to the floor at some point in the night when the heat kicked on (the damn thing had been broken for years and, despite his best efforts, Jacob never fixed it properly) leaving the teen in quite a predicament. Any other morning, he would step onto the ice cold wood flooring of his bedroom, though today, he had the delight of his best friend staying over, the floor covered in an array of comforters. Though Sam opted to sleep on the couch last night, Chuck had stayed over one to many times to not miss the floor. He actually preferred it over the mattress he had back at his own house, even going as far as to offer it to Mike whenever he stayed over.

Though, if Chuck hadn't been so delusional when they finally did get him home last night, Mike would have made him take his bed.

Speaking of which, Mike looked down at the blonde on the floor, contemplating whether or not he should actually wake him or just left him sleep the excitement of yesterday off. He laid pretty motionless and if Mike hadn't known any better, he'd be sure he was dead. Deciding to leave him be, Mike stepped over the teen and in to the hall. Sam began to sit up a little on the couch in the living room, hardly aware of his new surroundings. Mike watched the kid sit up, stretch, and fall back down before actually getting up to get ready for school.

"Alright...gotta drop him off..." Mike thought out loud, finding a random hangnail to distract him from actually doing something to get ready. Like most teens, Mike grabbed his phone from the kitchen table, opting to look into any notifications rather than make breakfast while he waited for the bathroom to be freed up. Jacob must have been running late this morning as the hair dryer ran loudly from the bathroom.

Mike laughed quietly to himself, getting a mental image of the man actually blow drying his beard and finding it quite amusing. He would have actually considered a concept of the man braiding the beard, but his half asleep mind was suddenly jolted awake by a chime on his phone. Glancing at the screen, the teenager noticed a new text message from 'Jules3'.

Now, it was no secret that Mike and Julie had a thing for each other, but Mike would never admit to writing her name in his phone like that. The story went something like 'She stole my phone and changed everyone's contact name and I never got around to changing hers back' or something like that. Regardless of how it got there, Mike still knew that the message was from Julie and unlocked the screen to answer it.

'Morning cowboy :P'

Mike smirked, more so at the nickname, letting his fingers drum on the table before tapping out a response.

'Morning, Jules, what's up?'

Sliding his phone back in to the middle of the table, Mike decided it was finally time for breakfast, heading over to the freezer to find some toaster waffles. The hunt didn't take long, as Mike was the only one in the house who even ate that sort of thing, even Chuck stayed away from them, preferring Jacob's cooking over 'some over-processed piece of shit'. He hadn't always been that way, but his sudden crush on Claire changed a few things. His choice of what's good and what's not was one of those things.

With the waffles now safely in the toaster, Mike returned to the table, snatching his phone back up. As expected, there was a new message from Julie already waiting.

'Not much. Claire is taking forever to get ready'

The brunette almost had to stop and laugh; Julie was a pretty skilled driver, but her dad never let her do it. Because of this, she was usually bumming rides off other cheerleaders, and in a rare, rare case, the Amazons. Mike had offered a few times, though she had him pull up on the opposite side of the street and three houses down from hers. He never thought to question it and seldom offered due to the fact that Chuck was almost always driving with him. On the instances where he drove with the other members of the band, Mike was quick to offer his spot.

If Jacob let him borrow the truck, he'd drive everyone, actually.

'That sucks. lol, need a ride?' He typed back before locking the screen yet again, getting up to retrieve his waffles. He was calmly pouring syrup when yet another text came in. Mike wasn't one to not text back instantly, so he set the syrup down abruptly, leaning over until his torso was almost horizontal with the floor. It took a few whacks, but he finally manage to unlock the screen from his position.

'If you don't mind DX'

Deciding that he'd have to straighten up in order to respond, Mike stood up completely, though he had to use the counter, and in the process, his waffles to steady himself, "Great..." He muttered, reaching for a near by towel to clean away the sticky substance. It left behind bits of string and whatever else was stuck in the towel, causing him to cringe. It wasn't often that Mike used his left hand for anything, but when it came to getting syrup on his phone, he thought it would be fine.

'Sure thong. Sample is cumming wilt us.' As a knee jerk reaction, Mike sent the text without much thought. He did, however, put a whole lot of thought into his facial expression when he did see what he wrote.

"Fucking autocorrect!" He slammed the device back on to the table, forcefully enough that the back popped off and the battery skidded across the table.

"Language!" Jacob stepped into the kitchen, whacking the back of his grandson's head. Mike only rolled his eyes to this, working to put his phone back together,

"Sorry, Jacob," He mumbles offhandedly, snapping the back of the phone in to place, "I'm giving Julie a ride today."

Jacob, who was in the middle of getting the orange juice from the refrigerator, stops and quirks an eyebrow. Mike rolled his eyes, picking at his waffles again, "I know what your thinking."

"Oh, boy, I don't even know what I'm thinking half the time." Jacob admits, getting his drink and grabbing his keys off the kitchen table. He stops to ruffle his grandson's hair before heading for the door, leaving Mike alone with his waffles. His phone buzzes beside him, causing the teen to look over.

'Alright, see ya in a bit :P'

Sighing in relief at the girl's understanding, Mike typed back 'K' then got up to get dressed. Chuck was still fast asleep on the floor and had it not been for a slight twitch from his hand, most likely from years of typing in a half awake state, Mike would have thought he was dead. He would have shook him awake to tell him the plan for that morning, but he opted to write a note instead.

'Hey, chuckles, took Sam to school. Don't even think about getting to class. Don't touch my waffles.

~Mike'


	10. Chapter 10

The drive to Julie's house was interesting enough as it was, having to park so far away; it was even more interesting with Sam in the backseat, doing his damndest to relate to Mike's taste in music.

"So...This is alternative?" Sam had since pulled his hood over his eyes, attempting to appear cooler than middle school would allow him to be. Mike, sniffling a laugh, nodded,

"Yup. This is alternative." He confirms,. turning down Julie's block. Glancing at the boy through his rear view mirror, Mike almost had to laugh a bit more.

The boy really did try to be like his brother, though he only let his hair cover one eye instead of both. The blonde hair and freckles only made him look even more like Chuck, if not adding to his already dorky appearance. The two brothers were pretty close, usually bonding over practicing band instruments or attending a LARP group on the weekends. Mike had always figured that it was Chuck's way of making it up to Sam, who had put up a pretty decent fight when Chuck moved out. He was offered to come along, but opted to stay home.

It wasn't really his idea either; it was more so Jacob, who figured that, with Chuck's diagnosis, shouldn't be left alone. With a constantly working mother, the two were on their own most of the time. Though Chuck originally declined Jacob's offer, one rather traumatic event changed that.

But that was a a story for later.

"So, how've ya been?" Mike pulled up, three houses down and across the street from Julie, leaning on the horn for a few seconds to let her know he was there. Sam perked up, returning eye contact through the mirror,

"Oh, I've been good. Been busy with band practice." He rubs nervously at his arm, hoping that the sentence wasn't too lame . Mike laughs a bit, before turning to face the boy,

"Maybe you could answer a question for me.," He looks dead-serious at the boy, "How do you band members travel with all those instruments?"

* * *

"Sorry Claire had to come along; I know you don't like her very much." Julie commented, clicking her seat belt and Mike drove down the street. The previously mentioned girl sat poised in the back seat, tapping fiercely away at her phone. Sam watched her from beneath his hood, eyeing her beauty. She scoffed, noticing the middle-schooler and immediately turning to face the window, resuming her texting. A realization must've hit her pretty hard as she suddenly looks up from her phone and looks around the car,

"Hey, Mike, where's Chuck at today? He, like, never misses school." She noted, though she added a quick glance at herself in the rear view mirror to emphasize the fact that she didn't care where he actually was. Mike would have responded sarcastically had Julie not nudged him, curious herself.

"Had to take him to the e.r last night-"

"Oh my God, what happened?" Julie turns in her seat, immediately concerned by this new knowledge. She really should have been used to these types of things, considering Mike and Chuck were always getting in to some type of trouble, but she always showed concern.

"Would you believe me if I said Ru-"

"Yes." Julie cut him off once more, turning back in her chair, "Seriously, Mike, what is with your sister?"

"I dunno, Jules. She's in her own little world." Mike shrugged, reaching over to the stick shift to change gears. Julie reached over as well, placing her hand on top of his,

"Seriously, Mike, this is the upteenth time you guys have wound up in the e.r. Could you try to be a little more careful?" Julie beckoned, giving his hand a slight squeeze. Smirking lightly at her concern, Mike nodded,

"Would be nice to have someone other than Mrs. Gordy patch me up." The brunette commented, bracing himself for what he already knew what was coming. Julie punched him playfully in the arm before facing forward again.

"I'm serious, Mike. Be more careful." She closes her eyes for a second, but smiles. Mike only shakes his head,

"Alright, I'll try." Mike stops at a light just in front of the school. Julie, who had been sitting quietly, suddenly sat up, 'Wait, Chuck isn't here!'

"Yeah, so?" Sam sat up a bit.

"I'm gonna have to sit in Duke's class alone!"


	11. Chapter 11

"Yo, where's Blondie at today?" Texas called across the hall, being unusually attentive today. He waved a large hand toward Mike and Julie as they followed behind Claire, who was busy checking her most recent status update for any spelling errors.

"He's at home today." The girl answered without so much as a nod, flicking her wrist in an attempt to keep the boy away from her. Texas raised a thick eyebrow before snatching the phone from the girl's hands, "Hey! Give that back!"

"Whatcha doin' on it?" Texas asked, glancing at the screen, "Ooh! Facebook, Texas is gonna write on your wall.!" The football player arched his shoulders, turning his back toward the girl.

"Texas!" Claire protested, making pointless grabs at the device. She would have started clawing at him had the bell not rung, prompting the jock to toss the phone over his shoulder and dash off to class. Claire caught it, though she had met the floor somewhere in the middle. Checking the status, she groaned,

"Texas Rocks? Great! Now everyone is gonna think I like the loser!" And with a second ring of the bell, Claire dropped her phone, allowing her face to meet the floor in defeat; she was now late for class.

(Line)

"Claire, is there a reason why you're late to my class?" The home ec teacher who, at this point, everyone simply referred to as 'Ma' due to her motherly ways, particularly to the group known as the Mama's Boys (it was discovered sophomore year that she was, in fact, Junior's mother) scolded as the teenager slipped into her chair, pocketing her cellphone.

"Texas wouldn't give me back my phone!" Claire shot back, in no mood for any sort of conversation at the moment. Ma simply shook her head as she jotted down a 'tardy' beside Claire's name, shaking her head as she did. If the tech-savvy girl had to guess, she would almost assume the older woman had it out for her, the way she was constantly tutting as she'd enter the room. Claire had no time to dwell on this matter as she quickly looked about her table,

"Hey, where's- oh. Never mind." The teen sank slowly into her chair, realizing that her usual kitchen partner wasn't there today. Not that she missed Chuck or anything, it's just that he would usually do the assignment for both of them, freeing up Claire's time, though this would usually come back to screw her over as she'd soon find out on the pop quizzes to see what was learned during the lesson.

A tissue full of notes would usually easy the odds of her failing, though.

"Claire, you'll be paired up with Tennie today." Ma commented off-handedly, gesturing to the freckled girl beside her. Now, it wasn't like Tennie had a problem with Claire, no, not in the least bit. The two rarely spoke and if they did, it was most likely a quick remark of one another's existence during a gathering of friends, rather it be at Antonio's or one of their many other gathering places (but we'll get to those later). The only real problem there was between the two girls was their personalities; Claire liked to slack off where as Tennie was a hard worker who would refuse to put up with it.

Claire would discover this in the middle of class.

"Claire, put your phone away and mix this thing for me." Tennie set a bowl of cookie dough onto the counter as she made an effort to brush the flour from her nose. Claire only rolled her eyes, the pieces of hair she left to frame her face swished about her cheeks,

"Nah, just got this outfit, don't feel like getting stuff on it, ya know?" Claire set her phone back on to the table just to make sure she didn't come off as being too lazy. Tennie would by it and simply walked away from the bowl, knowing that, if Claire really wanted her grade to survive, she would pick up the spoon and work. Now, Tennie was right, but she had not anticipated the whining that would come with it.

"Ya know, Chuck usually does this for me." Claire scoffed, pushing the bowl as far away from her as it could be.

"Don't care. I'm not gonna do all the work around here." Tennie looked up from setting the oven to the correct time. Claire groaned, setting the bowl down at last.

"There, mixed it. Now can I sit back down?"

"No way! Now ya have to put it on the tray." Tennie laughed as she handed the cookie sheet off to the girl, turning to clear any leftover flour off the table with a wet rag.

"What? But my hands will get dirty!" Claire stared at the mixture in the bowl, cringing inwardly at how it stuck to the sides.

"Claire, we don't have time to fight over this." Tennie crossed her arms across her apron, not that it wa helping her already dirty overalls get any cleaner.

Scoffing yet again, Claire winced as she got to work, rolling the dough into small, cookie sized pieces.

"Ya know, if-"

"If you like him so much, marry him." Tennie shot back, causing the other teen to jump in surprize, sending a wad of dough toward the floor. Both girls stared at the mess before erupting into a fit of laughter, the tension from earlier dissolving quickly, "Don't worry, I'll get it...what were you going to say anyhow?" Tennie raised a curious brow as she knelt to wipe up the mess. Claire only shook her head, resuming her work,

"Don't worry about it, I was just going to say we could probably get this done faster if we did this together."

"Probably, but I don't feel like getting dough on my hands."


	12. Chapter 12

After a rather disgusting experience with making cookies (though her hands were now admittedly softer), Claire headed off to her next class with two paper plates stapled together containing the cookies that had caused her so much grief earlier that day.

"Here's hoping they last until lunch." The girl mumbled to herself, tugging her bag over her shoulder, doing her best to dash to class in a pair of heels (she would have considered something else had these ones not matched her outfit so perfectly, but that was beside the point) She hadn't intended to take the cookies with her and didn't feel like Texas making a grab for them.

"I just need to get to Hudson's class an-"

"Hey, Texas smells cookies!"

"Texas!"

(Line)

Safe within her desk in second period health class with Nurse Kaia (who probably shouldn't have signed up to be both the nurse and health teacher), Julie had sunk as far into her chair as humanly possible, her knees almost parallel to the seat in front of her. It's not that Julie hated coming to class or school in general, but when you sit in the front row, getting called on was something you were never truly spared from.

"Alright class, today, we'll be learning about the heimlich. Now has anyone every had to perform the heimlich maneuver?" Kaia sauntered barefoot to the front of the classroom, writing the word in dainty cursive, that only came along with writing a million notes home to parents, on the board. With a predicted hush suddenly growing in the classroom, Kaia rolled her eyes, "Perhaps a demonstration...Kane, Chilton, would you mind setting an example for your classmates?"

Julie tried pathetically to sink further into her chair, even considering sinking to the floor and crawling her way out of this nut house, but Mike was already halfway to the front of the room, one of his signature smirks on his face, "Sure thing, Kaia. It's a great skill to have...coming Jules?" Mike turned one shoulder to the side, casting a glance at the girl. Hanging her head and looking away quickly, Julie avoided all eye-contact as she slowly stood from her chair. It was no surprise at this point that she was blushing, both out of embarrassment and a small crush she still harbored for the brunette in front of her.

It started...man, she would have to guess it was somewhere around eighth grade when she met him. Yeah, eighth grade sounded right. He had a ten-speed bike and, oh man, did he know some cool tricks! Back before the 'incident' that would lead to Kane's disdain toward Mike, the two would hop on their bikes, meet up with Chuck, Dutch, and Texas, and usually spend their afternoons and early evenings running around Jacob's kitchen, usually being scolded by the older man to go spend the day outside and to stay off the Duke's lawn.

However, those simpler days were gone now as bikes became cars and Jacob's kitchen was just too small for the now young adults' adventures that soon became too big to keep under one roof.

And apparently a friendship grew along with it.

"Alright, Mike, remember how it's done?' Kaia folds her arms, leaning against her desk. Mike smirks at his childhood friend, stepping up behind her. Had Julie been blushing any harder, her face would have matched her hair. That blush would have continued to grow had the phone in the back of the classroom not began to ring. Groaning in disbelief, Kaia pushed off her desk, stepping behind her desk to grab the device, "Hello? Yes, she is. Okay, I will send her down. Julie, Principal Kane wants to see you." Kaia hung up the phone, turning back to the front of the room. Silently praising whatever angel above made all this possible, Julie wordlessly grabbed her bag from beneath her desk, fleeing the room without even grabbing a hall pass.

(Line)

"So, er, dad, what did you call me down for?" Julie let her backpack hit the floor before finding a seat in front of her father's desk. A brown paper bag sat neatly on the desk, her own name scribbled crudely in sharpie.

"You left your lunch on the table this morning. So how are those classes of yours going?" Principal Kane was in the midst of reading over a student's transcript, which he promptly folded and set aside, folding his hands and resting his chin atop them, grinning at his daughter. Julie on shook her head, bring her knees to her chest.

"Eh, I'm not looking forward to Duke's class much." The teen rested her chin on top of her knees, making sure to add a small pout to her face, hoping that maybe her father would find a reason to excuse her from the class without her actually having to ask him to do so.

"And why is that? Duke is an excellent teacher. Is someone picking on you? I can give them a we-"

"No, no, Dad. That's fine. It's just, I didn't get to spend any time with you last night since I was A- cheer practice and I really wanted to tell you about how my project for Hudson's class went." Julie cast her eyes toward the floor, hoping to mask any mischievous look she knew would most likely be reflected in them. Apparently it worked because next thing Julie knew, a pass was withdrawn from her father's desk, a quick signature scratched into place,

"Bring in the project with you, I would love to look it over with you." Kane grinned, setting the pass beside the lunch bag. Julie lept to her feet, throwing her arms around her father's neck,

"Thanks, dad, you're the best!"

That day during Duke's choir class, Chuck wasn't the only one not to answer roll call.


End file.
